Companion
by Nesloga
Summary: The Doctor has had many Companions through the ages, but Harry, Harry is special.


_Word Count: 1,029_  
_A/N: Day eight of a Writing Challenge_  
_Summary: The Doctor has had many Companions through the ages, but Harry, Harry is special. _

**Companion**

To The Doctor, every Companion is special in their own way. But Harry, the little boy that lived under the stairs, is especially special. Because Harry has been his Companion more then once, he has left and come back. Come back and then left. It is a cycle that they have developed over the decades, centuries, millennia.

A curious grin, not quite happy and no where near sad. "Hello Harry, and how are you today?"

Eyes that don't blink, because, _don't blink_. "Just fine Doctor, just fine."

They constantly see each other, of rather, they run into each other frequently. As frequently as they can without creating a paradox, that is. Paradoxes are tricky things and if The Doctor and Harry spend too much time together to often then they might just create one.

"Why do I let you get me into these things?" Harry mock glared at the brunet to the left of the stone angel, remembering to not blink.

"You don't let me do anything, Harry. If you had your way then half the universe would be dead by now." The Doctor smiled at his oldest friend, trusting him to keep the Weeping Angel still as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver.

When they can't see one another Harry wanders the universe, finding new adventure and learning new things. Once in a while he will hear a whisper on the cosmos, and more often then not that whisper will be about The Doctor. The newest whisper he had heard made him worry, it claimed that The Doctor had regenerated. That The Doctor had lost another of his thirteen lives.

The Doctor fixed his suspenders and checked to make sure his bow tie was in order, after all, bow ties were cool. "So, what do you think?"

Green eyes roved over him, examining him and taking in the differences and similarities. "Why suspenders?"

A laugh breaks out, no one had asked him that yet. They had all commented on his neck attire; but what else had he expected from Harry? The Master of Death was an odd one. Soft eyes locked with green ones, "You like them?"

"Yeah, I do."

During the years that they're separated The Doctor finds new Companions, they aren't replacements, they _aren't_. They're merely new people, new people that he can meet, befriend, and lose. And if almost all his companies are British, well, that just means that the Tardis likes Great Britain. It doesn't mean anything.

Harry stared at the carefully preserved book, it was a rare thing for The Doctor to let him wander in the Tardis as he wanted. Usually the man was strict on where Harry could and could not go. Something about him being afraid that Harry would mistakenly send them to a new time. That would never happen though, the Tardis would never allow it. Although it seemed that the Tardis was in a mischievous mood, as she led him to a important looking book. A book that Harry was sure was supposed to be a secret.

It was filled with pictures, images upon images that caught bits and pieces of The Doctor's long life. It had pictures of all his Companions; some black and white, others colored, and a few even moving. Harry smiled down at the book when he came to the latest picture, it was of him and The Doctor.

They had just met after The Doctor's newest Companion had been torn away from him, The Doctor had tracked him down, ignoring the chance of paradox as he searched far and wide for his old friend. And when he found him he had collapsed, crumpling into a mess of limbs and mumbled cries. But Harry had understood the cries, no matter how mumbled they were. The Doctor was crying over Rose, he was saying that it was all his fault. That he had lost the women that he had lov-. That he had lost another Companion.

Harry had shushed him, soothing him with quiet words of comfort. Explaining again and again that it wasn't his fault. And when that failed and The Doctor refused to be consoled he merely hugged his friend. Offering what little comfort he could.

They made sure to meet once every ten years, because ten years for them is as long as they can stay away. After ten years they make sure to meet, no matter what it takes.

Torches lit the dark hallways and cast twisting shadows on the archways. Footsteps echoed as a man dressed in a leather jacket looked on in awe. He had forgotten that earth had wizards and witches, the society had hidden itself away and stayed in the dark. Only rumors were left and he didn't pay much attention to rumors.

But what he did pay attention to, what he did remember was the small child that he had met ten years ago. The tiny child that had desolate eyes and a kind smile. It had been ten years and the child was now a teen, he would be fifteen. "Harry? Harry, can you hear me?"

Hogwarts breathed in, holding it's breath and letting the quiet voice carry. Poor Harry had so few friends, and if one had come to visit him who was the castle to stop the two from meeting?

Harry woke with a fuzzy feeling; it had been weeks since he had awoken without a scream on the tip of his tongue. The nightmares were worse now, and it seemed that every night he was torn from slumber with fright drowning him. But this time was different, this time it was a happy feeling that met him when he awoke. A happy feeling and the dullest echo of a voice from long past. "… Doctor?"

The Doctor found Harry that night, he discovered how much the boy had changed. He saw the changes that the world of magic had forced on his young Companion from ten years ago. He took note of the transformation that the child had undergone and felt both his hearts splinter a little.

For The Doctor, Harry was special, because he was the Companion that never truly left.


End file.
